Thank You for All the Rocks
by OldSFfan
Summary: Awakened by a crash in the middle of the night, Cuddy fears the same terrible event has happened again. Rated T to be safe, for language and for mention of prison.


I don't own House, Cuddy, or Rachel and this fiction is not intended to violate the owners' copyrights. Robert (Bobby) Booker Cuddy-House, Captain Hook (AKA The Cat), neighbor Andy, and Wilson's family are original characters. This occurs several years after Season 8. It is a sequel to my story "Eighth Day."

Thank You, for All the Rocks

At first, I didn't know what woke me up. It must have been very loud, but I was fast asleep, so my first memory was car alarms and the noise of boards falling. I bolted upright in bed, shaking, as Bobby started fussing in the baby monitor. "House," I called to my husband. It was 4:15 in the morning, pitch dark outside. I fumbled to turn on the bedside lamp. House takes sleeping pills and it's hard for him to wake up. "Greg," I called him again, patting his arm, and noticed my hands were shaking.

"What," he mumbled, then must have heard the racket. "What?"

"Greg," I repeated. "I think someone hit our house."

He sat up too, wiping his hand over his face. "That's not our alarm…"

Rachel pushed out bedroom door open, hair wild and yellow summer shorty pajamas all rumpled. "Mama?" she asked.

I climbed out of bed. House did too, wincing as he stood. He pulled his bathrobe over his pajamas, that old white, striped bathrobe he'd had since we were lovers after the crane collapse in Trenton. He slid his feet into the running shoes he kept by the bed, with Velcro closures rather than laces—it's easier for him first thing in the morning.

"Cuddy, take the kids to the safe room. I'll find out what happened."

He shoved his phone into the pocket of his robe and grabbed his cane. He kissed me, bent and said to Rachel, "Now you mind your mama," and was out the bedroom door, lights going on as he headed down the hall and out the front door. I thought that it was a good thing that our power wasn't out.

Still shaking, I pulled myself together and reached for Rachel's hand. "Come on, Rach, let's go get Bobby and go to the safe room, like we practiced, okay?"

"Mama, what is it?" she asked, as she clutched my hand.

"I don't know, baby. But your papa will find out. It will be like camping, okay?"

"Yeah," she agreed but her voice was small and I could tell she was frightened. Well so was I. We couldn't have had a car hit our house, could we? Not again. Well, at least House was asleep beside me this time.

Bobby was climbing over the rail of his crib when I opened the door to his bedroom and switched on the light. He was ready for a real bed, having become a master escape artist from his crib. I'd have to ask Blythe how long it took Greg to figure out how to do it when he was a toddler. I intercepted him and swept him into my arms. "It's all right," I reassured him. "I've got you."

The alarms were still roaring, though I could tell the noise seemed to be coming from next door. Bobby's blue eyes, so like his father's, were wide, but curious rather than frightened. We went to the stairs and down to the walk-out basement. We had had the builder install a safe room under the stairs when we renovated the house, because there had been a home break-in around the block and a minor tornado had damaged several houses and a strip mall not too far away.

We got to the safe room and I settled the kids on the old sofa there. "Mama, we have to get Captain Hook," Rachel demanded.

"No, he'll be fine," I reassured her, although I really wasn't sure. Until we knew what was going on, we were not going to look for the cat. "Cats are good at hiding, if there is any danger." My phone rang. "Greg, what's wrong?" I asked, and my voice still wasn't steady.

A strange voice answered. "No, Lisa, this is Carolyn Frank, from across the street. Doctor House asked me to call you. Your neighbor crashed into his garage. Doctor House thought he might have had a coronary or something. He's doing CPR right now while we wait for the ambulance."

I sat down next to Rachel, relief swelling through me. It wasn't our house. And my House was being a good doctor. "Thank you for telling me."

"No problem. Doc told me to tell you to keep the kids away for now. Andy hit his head and there's a lot of blood."

"Oh, okay, I'll do that."

I could hear the sirens coming, adding to the racket. There was a scratch on the safe room door. I opened it and Captain Hook dashed in. Was it my imagination or did he look miffed that we had left him outside the room?

The ambulance and probably the fire truck were on the street outside our house, sirens still blaring, then stopped. At last the car alarm cut off. I was exhausted, but doubted I could get the kids back to sleep. "It's safe to come out," I told them. "But I don't want to go back to bed. Let's go have some milk and cookies and watch a movie until we're sleepy."

"Frozen," Rachel demanded, not surprisingly.

"Good idea," I agreed, and wondered how we would manage movies once Bobby was old enough to voice a preference.

I'd called in to work to explain that I wouldn't be in. There were no pressing meetings on my calendar so I could spend the day with my family. I let the nanny know we didn't need her either. We ate cookies and watched the movie and we'd all fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV, empty glasses and plates covered in cookie crumbs on the coffee table, DVD finished, when House came in, looking utterly weary, around ten in the morning. He was wearing light blue scrubs and the flip flops he keeps in his locker.

"Chase gave me a ride home," he explained.

I got up quietly, to keep from waking the children until I could ask House what happened, but they were up and shouting "Papa."

"He's in cardiac intensive care," House reported, trying to be vague, deliberately. He looked nervous.

"Your clothes?" I asked him. Maybe he was nervous because he'd left them in the garage for me to soak in the wash tub.

"Biohazard bin at the hospital," he said, avoiding anything Rachel could understand. "The garage door came down on the windshield."

I winced. Head injuries can bleed pretty freely. "I loved that old bathrobe," I told him. 

He smiled, as he propped his cane against the end table and flopped onto the other end of the sofa. He snapped the recliner out. "Cuddy, it was threadbare. I don't think it would have survived a thorough washing." He rested his head back on the headrest, eyes closing, as Rachel and Bobby climbed into his lap. He grunted, "Help, Admiral Cuddy. I'm being boarded by the Dread Pirate Rachel and the Dread Pirate Robert," he mumbled.

"Dwead Piwate Bobby," our son demanded.

"Doesn't sound as scary," House objected, and fell asleep.

When House had awakened later in the morning, he'd been very quiet. He drank his coffee and said that he needed to go back to the hospital to check on his patient. I didn't understand how a coronary and the accident would make our neighbor a diagnostics patient, but he was out the door before I could ask. He called and said that he couldn't be home for dinner.

Rachel and Bobby and I went out to see the mess that the crash had made in our neighbor's garage. The smashed garage door was covered by plywood, but it was obvious that the car had also struck the side of the opening, because some boards had been nailed in to prop the whole thing up. The car that Andy had been driving was towed away just after I fed the kids their breakfast. Frankly, it could have been a lot worse. And the vulnerability of our house terrified me. What if it had happened when the kids were playing in the front yard?

That night in bed, I could see House was very troubled. He cleared his throat and whispered, "Cuddy, I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"You must have been so frightened, thinking it had happened again. I'm so sorry."

"For what," I asked again, then understood. "Oh." I scooted up and leaned against the headboard. "Yes, it was a scary way to wake up and yes, I was frightened. That noise was deafening. And yes, I do have a rare appreciation for the vulnerability of houses to cars. But do you know what I was thinking last night?"

"That some idiot had done the same damn thing I'd done and rammed your home?"

"No, I was thinking that you were going to protect us. That you looked like a warrior going into battle. And we were safe."

"Oh God, Cuddy," he said, voice breaking. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face against me. 

Finally, he sat up. "I've put off telling Rachel what I did. I wanted to put it off until she was 35 or I was dead, whichever came last. She has a rough idea, but I'm going to have to spell it out, before someone remarks on the coincidence. Could you be with me, to keep it, you know, age appropriate?" He cleared his throat again. "Do you think she'll hate me?"

"I don't think Rachel could ever hate you. And of course, if you want me to, I'll be there when you talk to her about it." I stroked his hair and his back. "But I'll miss that old bathrobe."

We waited until after Bobby was asleep the next evening. In the family room, House said, "Rach, could I talk to you?"

She furrowed her brow. It was an odd way for House to begin a conversation with her. Usually it began something like, "Well, ye slimy bilge rat…"

"Papa, did I do something wrong?"

He patted the sofa next to him. "No, you did nothing wrong. I have to explain something to you that I did wrong."

Rachel sat next to House, but a cautious few inches away instead of her usual snuggle next to him.

"Ready?" he asked. I stood in the hallway, as he had asked me.

Rachel nodded her head once, just like House.

"Okay. Remember when I was away from you for two years?"

"I missed you," Rachel said, worry puckering her six-year-old face.

"Remember when your Mama told you I was in jail?"

"Do you have to go again?" Rachel asked, then her face wrinkled up into a cry.

"No, no I don't," House interjected, heading off a crying fit. "But do you remember what I did so I had to go away?"

Rachel was quiet for a minute. Very cautiously, she said, "You crashed your car into our house."

"Yeah, I did. Like Mr. Lewis did last night, into his garage."

"Mama said he was sick and couldn't help it. Were you sick too?"

House closed his eyes. I ached for him. "No, Rach. I did a terrible thing. It was like, well, it was like throwing a tantrum. Grown-ups can't do that. I was upset with your Mama. And no woman should ever be afraid of her partner, or of anyone. I don't want you to ever have to be afraid of a man or a partner. So what I did was terrible and there is no excuse for it. I apologized to your Mama and I apologized to Uncle James. To your Aunt Julia, too, because she was there. They told me that they forgive me. But I never apologized to you. I am sorry, Rachel, for breaking your home and for making your Mama scared of me. I am so sorry."

Rachel was quiet for a minute. I could see that she was trying to make sense of what House had said. I was so proud of her when she stood up on the sofa and put her arms around his neck. "I forgive you, Papa. I love you."

House wrapped his arms around the little girl and held her as if she were a life preserver and he was a drowning man. I walked quietly into the family room and sat down on the sofa next to Rachel. House composed himself after a while, although I could see that his eyes were wet. "So Rach, this is the thing. If anybody in your school gives you a hard time because our neighbor got sick and ended up accidentally doing to his house what I did to your Mama's, I want you to know that they have no right to bully you about it. You let us know, okay?"

She nodded her head solemnly. "Okay," she agreed.

And so, the conversation that House had dreaded for so long, was over.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for Rachel's school, students and teachers were distracted by a broken water pipe in the cafeteria that forced everyone to eat bag lunches in the gym for a week while the damage was repaired, making everyone feel as if they were camping out, so none of Rachel's classmates remembered to tease her.

I managed to get home in time to intercept a package I had ordered. By the time House got home after nine o'clock, thoroughly weary after solving a tough case, I had the contents wrapped and waiting for him. He kissed the kids goodnight, even though both were already asleep, ate the pot roast Marina had cooked, and settled into the loveseat in the family room. Captain Hook perched on the back of the loveseat in his usual spot.

"House," I said, barely catching him before he dozed off.

"Mmnnff," he mumbled.

"I have something for you." He was tired enough that his usual love of presents and surprises barely got his eyes open. I handed him the package. He sat upright and took it, ripping the newspaper I'd used to wrap it (he always complained about frilly wrapping paper). He shook out the white, blue and-green striped material.

"It's a bathrobe," he murmured.

"It's as close to the old one as I could find."

"Aw, Cuddy, you shouldn't have gone to the trouble."

I couldn't help sniffing. "I had very fond memories of that robe."

He grinned, held out his arm, and said, "Come here."

"Do you like it?" I asked, as I snuggled gratefully against him.

"Silly girl, I love it." We remembered the children and decided to continue in the bedroom.

But something very strange was waiting for me when I drove home from work a week later.

On the lawn, between the bay window and the maple tree, were three large boulders, each about three feet high and four feet apart. One was speckled black, gray, and white, one reddish brown, and one was medium gray with sparkling crystals in it.

I parked the car and when I walked into the kitchen, on the kitchen counter was a pamphlet from an ornamental stone company, with a description of each of the boulders. Next to it was a receipt, with House's scrawled signature.

He walked into the kitchen, grinning.

"What?" I managed.

"They're boulders. As in big rocks."

"I think I got that. Why?"

House got serious. "They're a wall, Cuddy. No one can drive into our house."

And I realized what he'd done for me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck so he straightened up and my feet swung up off the floor, while we kissed.

"You like?" he asked, as he set me back on my feet.

"I like very much. Oh, and I like the boulders, too."

"It will make a great fort for snowball fights this winter."

"We'll have to get the kids to promise not to climb on top of them…"

"Good luck with that. Let's wait outside for them." We walked out the front door and House picked me up to sit on the gray and sparkly boulder.

Grandmother Blythe drove into the driveway with Bobby. They both got out of the sedan. Bobby ran to me and pointed at my boulder.

"Rock!" he exclaimed.

House laughed and scooped up the toddler. "It's a fort, Bobby. We can fight off the pirates."

Marina and Rachel drove into the driveway, paused while the garage door opened, and parked. Rachel ran from the garage, purple backpack flapping in her hand, and stood in front me. She reached around me to run her hand over the crystals. "Pretty," she murmured. "Is it for us, Papa?"

"It's a wall…" House began, but looked at me and changed course. "Yes, pretty rocks, Rach, and we can have great snowball fights in winter!"

"And pirates in summer!" Well, my daughter was, as usual, on the same page as her Papa. Sometimes, I thought he was her biological father.

"Pirates in summer," he agreed. And added a loud, "Argh!" for good measure.

Wilson, Fiona, with Becky running beside them, Danny in his stroller, and Maggie the Scottish deerhound politely following on her leash, dropped by on their evening walk. Wilson looked at the boulders, did a double take, and nearly hurt himself laughing, while poor Fiona tried to figure out what set him off.

And so our front yard become a favorite of the neighborhood kids, not without some skinned knees as they scrambled on top of them and tried to jump from one to the other. "No jumping," I'd order. It did as much good as trying to roll one of the boulders.

"No good deed goes unpunished," House reminded me, as we sat on the front porch steps and watched the childhood chaos unfolding before us. House snapped pictures with the excellent digital camera I'd bought to make sure we captured these moments forever.

And that Christmas, we gave our neighbor Andy a beautiful fruit basket with wine. "Well, thank you," he said, "but it's too much."

And House said, "No, thank you, for the inspiration, and for all the rocks."


End file.
